


please don't stop the music

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Hunter is a Male Stripper, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: It's ladies night at the bar, which just means there's a lot of loud music and a lot of male strippers. Lance Hunter happens to be one such stripper.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	please don't stop the music

Fitz knew he was notorious for being gullible as anything, but it hadn’t taken much convincing for him to come with Bobbi and Jemma to the bar. It was nominally a ladies night, but _ladies night_ just meant the bar had hired several male strippers. Some other men were there, too, likely because of some notion their girlfriends needed to be watched when faced with the prospect of a more attractive, probably less possessive, man. Fitz wasn’t interested in keeping his girlfriends’ eyes from wandering, because he, too, was admiring the sculpted bodies of the strippers as the music pounded in the background.

Damn Bobbi and Jemma for taking advantage of his bisexuality.

“Look at that one,” Jemma said, nudging him before pointing to one of the strippers. He wasn’t as tall or as well-muscled as some of the other men, but Fitz could immediately understand why he had stood out to Jemma in the crowd. He had a _way_ about him, charm that oozed from every pore. His hair was tousled and he had a rake of stubble on his cheek and chin. Jemma had always enjoyed stubble, but Fitz didn’t like the way it felt on his face. On someone else, though...

“Straight ten,” Bobbi declared.

“Hopefully not straight,” Fitz muttered under his breath. God, he shouldn’t have been fantasizing about someone he had seen for the first time fifteen seconds ago. It was embarrassing.

“You two want anything to drink?” Fitz asked as he and his girlfriends settled at a standing table. They gave him their orders and Fitz headed to the bar, still half paying attention to the strippers around him.

“It’s gross, right? I mean, why do they have to dance like that?” A man at the bar asked Fitz as he waited for his drinks.

Fitz took a long, deep breath. “Why are you here, then?”

“Girlfriend made me,” the man said. The _duh_ at the end of his sentence wasn’t said, but it was implied.

Fitz wanted to punch him. Luckily he was stopped by the bartender handing him his drinks. Fitz beat a hasty retreat back to Jemma and Bobbi. They were still ogling the stripper, and Fitz was all too happy to join them.

The music changed and still, the bearded man remained the most interesting person on stage. Fitz and his girlfriends chatted some, but most of their focus was on the bearded man. After the third song he disappeared, presumably to change into a different outfit. Fitz took the opportunity to make his way to the loo - he hadn’t wanted to leave while the man was still dancing, but he needed to pee.

When he opened the door to the men’s bathroom, though, Fitz was met with an eyeful.

“Sorry,” an accented voice said. “I didn’t think anyone else - you can open your eyes, I’m decent.”

Fitz did as he was instructed, and all the blood drained from his face. The man whose dick he had just glimpsed was none other than Sexy Bearded Stripper Man.

“Didn’t expect other men?” Fitz asked weakly.

“None who hadn’t seen my junk before,” the bearded man said with a grin that absolutely melted Fitz. “Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s - I get it. Uh, toilet?” Fitz said, still too embarrassed to be able to string together words correctly. The stripper moved aside so Fitz could make his way into a stall. He sat on the toilet longer than he probably should’ve, trying to catch his breath. His thoughts had rapidly devolved from thinking about maybe kissing the bearded man to thinking about him doing much, much dirtier things.

When he had mostly composed himself Fitz flushed the toilet and went to wash his hands. The stripper was leaning casually against the other sink, now clothed in a different costume.

“Sorry again,” he said as Fitz washed his hands.

“Not a problem,” Fitz said despite the dryness in his throat. “Break a leg.”

“I’d rather break some hearts.” The stripper winked at him and Fitz ducked out of the bathroom before the other man could see how red he was.

The rest of the night blurred together. All Fitz could focus on was various scenarios involving him, the bearded stripper, and a variety of compromising positions. Jemma and Bobbi were there in several of the fantasies, too - he would never deny his girlfriends the chance to bed a specimen like _that_.

Fitz’s hand had been creeping up Jemma’s thigh most of the night, and Fitz was whispering dirty things in her ear as they left the bar. Until they saw what was happening in the parking lot.

They weren’t the only ones who had noticed their preferred stripper, and there was a gaggle of girls around the harrowed-looking man. One of them was hanging off his arm, another was obviously invading his personal space, and a third had a cellphone shoved into his face.

“Oh, hell no,” Bobbi muttered under her breath before walking over to the group with fire in her eyes. Fitz didn’t bother asking what she was doing or telling her to be careful - Bobbi was a force of nature, and she had made her decision.

A minute later, the women had dispersed, and Bobbi was clutching onto the stripper’s hand in a vice-like grip. Fitz and Jemma wandered over to them, trying not to be too obvious.

“Hunter, this is my boyfriend and girlfriend, Fitz and Jemma. Fitz, Jem, this is Lance Hunter.” Bobbi’s introduction was efficient. Fitz hoped the other man wouldn’t recognize him, but no such luck. 

“I had to pretend to be Hunter’s girlfriend. Hope that’s okay with you two.”

“We don’t mind sharing,” Jemma answered immediately. Hunter gave her a look Fitz couldn’t interpret.

“Do you want us to walk you to your car?” Fitz offered. “So you don’t get swarmed again,” he added hastily.

“You really don’t have to.”

“I did not just spend the last two minutes pretending to be a jealous girlfriend for you to get attacked as soon as I’m gone,” Bobbi declared. “Come on, where are you parked?”

Hunter relented. As it turned out, he was parked two cars down from Bobbi, Fitz, and Jemma. They all realized it simultaneously, and Fitz’s cheeks weren’t the only pink ones.

“Do you… do you want some company tonight?” Fitz blurted. 

Hunter blinked at him, then looked at Bobbi and Jemma. Neither of them were bothered by the invitation - if Jemma’s tight grip on Fitz’s hand was any indication, she was just as excited as he was to see if Hunter would come home with them.

“Are you all going to murder me?” Hunter asked, furrowing his brow.

“Not unless having fantastic sex counts as murder,” Jemma whispered under her breath. Hunter didn’t hear her, thankfully.

“No,” Fitz answered, louder. “Just offering company.”

“And company means…?”

“Whatever you want it to mean,” Fitz answered steadily. He was fine if this didn’t go anywhere beyond just a drink with a handsome man, but he’d be lying if he didn’t want more. At least Hunter didn’t seem entirely turned off by the idea.

Hunter’s car followed theirs home, and immediately upon entering their apartment he asked if he could make use of the shower. The trio agreed, leading him to the master suite and the accompanying bathroom.

“So,” Bobbi said as she jumped onto the bed. “We’re going to fuck him, right?”

“Only if he wants to!”

“Jem, he wouldn’t have come home with us if he wasn’t at least interested in the idea.” Bobbi rolled her eyes. “I just mean, do we need to have a long conversation about what we’re all allowed to do with him, or is it just free-for-all?”

Fitz shifted, waiting to see what Jemma would say.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Jemma asked, ever practical. “We all fall in love with him?”

Bobbi snorted. “Yeah, you two are lucky I managed to fall for both of you. A third one is _not_ happening.”

Jemma smiled. “We’re very lucky we both got you, sweetheart.”

Fitz nodded his agreement, watching as Jemma craned her neck to peck Bobbi on the lips. The peck quickly turned into more than a peck, and Fitz poked Jemma to keep her from getting too carried away. It wouldn’t do for their guest to walk in on the three of them already in flagrante, and Fitz knew if the girls started getting handsy with each other he wouldn’t be able to resist them.

“So our only rule is don’t fall in love?” Fitz clarified. The girls looked at each other, shrugged, then nodded. Fitz was sure if there was anything else that came up they’d be able to figure it out - though hopefully in a way that didn’t make Hunter feel like the odd person out.

“How long do you reckon it’s going to take him to shower?” Fitz asked, laying back on the bed so he could stare up at the ceiling.

“Probably not long. He does have people waiting on him.” Jemma prodded his ribs, and Fitz flinched away. “Are you nervous?”

Fitz ignored the heat rising in his cheeks. “No.”

“Aw, our little boy is nervous!” Bobbi giggled, poking Fitz in the same spot Jemma just had. “Fitz’s first time with a man! His first time with a dick other than his own!” She crawled over Jemma to nuzzle into Fitz’s neck, giving him a quick kiss at his pulse point - her way of letting him know it was just fine to tell her to back off. 

“Rule two: no go getting cock envy,” Jemma declared. “Your prick is beautiful and I love it and I want to spend the rest of my life with it inside of me.” Fitz’s flush deepened.

Bobbi snorted. “I don’t think you want to have Fitz’s dick in you for the rest of your life, Jem.”

“You can have a turn, too,” Jemma answered diplomatically. “But the point stands. No matter what Hunter’s dick looks like, we love yours.”

“That goes for everything else, too,” Bobbi added, kissing Fitz’s neck again. “We love you just as you are.”

In truth, Fitz had been too busy ogling Hunter to think about whether or not chiseled muscle and the scruffy, bad-boy attitude were what Bobbi and Jemma preferred. It was a little difficult for him to be jealous of someone when most of his thoughts revolved around how Hunter’s hand would feel around his cock, or how Hunter’s cock would feel in _his_ hand, or what it would be like to kiss Hunter, or any number of situations that were less than appropriate. He appreciated the reassurance even if it was unneeded - especially when it came with kisses.

“Do you think we should undress for him?” Jemma asked after a minute of silence. “Or would that be presumptuous?”

“Maybe strip down to underclothes. And if he doesn’t want anything we can just say this is how we sleep?” Bobbi suggested.

They all agreed that was the best course of action, but it left Fitz feeling even more awkward when he was lying on the bed in his boxers, waiting for Hunter to come out of the shower. He tried focusing on sketching a mental reconstruction on his project for work, but it was hard to think about engineering when he had two near-naked bodies cradling him. Even if Hunter had only wanted to come over to their place for a shower and a momentary escape, Fitz was going to get laid tonight. Bobbi and Jemma’s hands weren’t wandering, exactly, but he could feel the energy crackling in the air around him - the whole room was shivering with anticipation.

The shower shut off, and Jemma gasped audibly.

Each second seemed to stretch on for days, Bobbi’s breath hot in his ear as he waited, and waited, and waited.

The bathroom door opened, and Fitz had to keep his jaw from dropping.

Hunter was only wearing a towel, slung low around his hips - low enough that Fitz could see the deep V of his muscles, leading down to… His mouth went dry, and Fitz’s eyes raked up Hunter’s body. It seemed like the other man had barely taken time to dry himself. His hair was still messy and dripping onto his forehead, and numerous drops of rivulets were sliding down along the curves of his muscles. Fitz had seen sculptures that had less muscle definition than Hunter. Even though he had seen Hunter shirtless before - for a long time, actually - there was something surprisingly intimate about Hunter being half-naked in his bedroom, and not on a stage. The other man wasn’t performing, wasn’t seeking anything from any of them except…

“So, did I read this terribly wrong, or would you like to sleep with me?” Hunter ran his hand through his hair, and Fitz’s heart stuttered. He looked so unsure of himself, like he was expecting to be chased off.

“The latter,” Jemma answered. “If you’re willing.”

“I am.”

No one said anything, and Fitz counted his heartbeats as the tension continued to mount, all of them waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Hunter dropped the towel, and the tension snapped.

“Holy shit.” Fitz was only dimly aware that he was the one saying the words, because he was too busy staring at Hunter’s dick. He hadn’t ever really believed in there being such a thing as a beautiful cock - they were all vaguely sausage-like - but he needed to reconsider that opinion when faced with new evidence. Hunter’s cock was just a touch longer than Fitz’s, but it was girthier. The majority of it matched Hunter’s tanned skin, except for the head, which was the blushing pink of sunrise. There was a slight upward curve to it - only just enough to be noticeable. It looked like it would fit nicely in Fitz’s hand.

Also, Hunter was hard. _He was very hard._

Fitz’s own cock jumped to attention, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had gone from soft to fully-erect that quickly; it was probably sometime in his teenage years when even a wrong brush of a hand could give him a boner.

But this wasn’t the wrong brush of a hand. It was an extremely handsome man he had spent half the night fantasizing about, now stark naked in his bedroom. 

Bobbi nudged him, and Fitz climbed over Jemma so he could scramble to his feet and stumble over to Hunter. He was sure he didn’t look anywhere close to graceful, let alone sexy, but Hunter was smiling when Fitz reached him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he told Hunter softly. He waited a breath for Hunter to object, but when no objections were forthcoming, Fitz fit his lips against Hunter’s.

Kissing a man was different. Mostly because Fitz felt like he was falling into a dream, and Hunter was doing everything to help him believe that. His lips were surprisingly soft and he obviously knew how to kiss. The rasp of stubble against his cheeks was unfamiliar but Fitz enjoyed the tingles it sent down his spine. Hunter pressed forward, kiss growing more confident, and Fitz found himself backed against a wall, his body flush against Hunter’s. The other man’s erection was pressed into his stomach, hot and heavy. Fitz made a needy noise into Hunter’s mouth, and Hunter moved one of his hands from where it was cradling Fitz’s face to the waistband of Fitz’s boxers. He fumbled for a moment before managing to pull the material down far enough that Fitz’s cock could bobble out, laying flat against his stomach.

Hunter broke the kiss rather abruptly. “Is this too much?” he breathed.

“Not enough,” Fitz answered. “Trust me.” And maybe that was a lot to ask of a veritable stranger, but if there was one thing Fitz could trust himself with, it was knowing his body. Bobbi and Jemma had taught him how to listen to himself, helping him blossom from being nervous about sex to confident in asking for what he wanted.

Bobbi and Jemma. Fitz’s eyes flicked over to the bed, where the girls were still laying. Jemma’s eyes were glazed and Bobbi’s mouth was hanging open, neither of them bothering to hide how arousing the scene was to them. Fitz couldn’t blame them - watching the two of them kiss always got him a little flustered, so why shouldn’t they get hot and bothered over watching him kiss another man?

Hunter followed his gaze. “Guess I should spread the love.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi interjected before Fitz could answer. “We are absolutely okay with just watching you and Fitz. But… we wouldn’t mind if you came a little closer.”

She scooted back and pulled Jemma over so there was more than enough room on the bed for Fitz and Hunter. After a moment Hunter guided them over, helping Fitz step out of his boxers and leave them abandoned by the wall. When they landed on the bed, Fitz was pinned underneath Hunter, the other man hovering above him.

“What do you want?” Hunter asked quietly.

“Just do what feels good,” Fitz whispered. He could guarantee whatever brought Hunter pleasure would feel good for him, too. Hell, this whole idea was enough for him to get off on. If someone had told him a few hours ago he’d be fucking a male stripper while his girlfriends watched, Fitz would’ve laughed. But here he was.

“Tell me if anything is bad.” Hunter leaned down and nibbled at the shell of Fitz’s ear. “I want this to be good for you.”

“It already is,” Fitz promised. He could feel precum oozing onto his stomach as Hunter continued to tease him, probably accidentally, with the weight of his cock against Fitz’s.

Hunter reached a hand down between their bodies, and the moment his fist wrapped around their cocks, Fitz’s mind went blank. He had considered a handjob, or a blowjob, even bottoming - but he hadn’t thought about frotting. Judging by the slick slide of their cocks against each other, Hunter had produced quite a bit of precum, too, and wasn’t _that_ something to think about?

Hunter continued moving his hand up and down, managing to keep their cocks together with relative ease. He busied himself with focusing on spreading kisses across Fitz’s neck and collarbones, pausing occasionally to nibble at a spot he seemed to like for whatever reason. Fitz arched into Hunter’s touch, seeking more, more, _more_ contact.

“Like that?” Hunter murmured.

“C-can you…” Fitz had to pause to wet his lips. “Move your hips more? Fuck me with your cock and your hand?”

Hunter growled so deep in his chest Fitz felt the sound more than heard it. He immediately obliged, rocking his hips forward so his cock rubbed along the entire length of Fitz’s. It took the frotting from pleasurable to stellar - and if Hunter’s reaction to the request was anything to go by, he agreed.

“Goddamnit, Fitz,” Hunter panted. “Wanted to last so much longer for you.”

“Are you going to cum?” 

“Oh, love, the moment I saw you the question was never _if_. It was _when_ and _how_.” Hunter’s hips jerked again, and he bit the side of Fitz’s neck before soothing the area with his tongue. “ _When_ is soon and _how_ is humping you.”

Fitz moaned once, then again louder when Hunter began to pick up the pace. There was so much blessed, beautiful friction, every nerve sizzling as Hunter rubbed against him. His brain became a crush of _more_ and _Hunter_ and _feelssogood_ , every thrust bringing him closer to sweet oblivion.

“Are you close, Fitz?” Hunter asked, voice tight.

He nodded frantically, not trusting himself to form anything close to coherent when the only signals his brain seemed to care about were from his cock.

“Ah, fuck! Oh fuck, oh yeah, Fitz, you feel so good, gonna -”

Fitz’s balls tightened, and a moment later he was blowing his load, cum spurting onto his stomach and chest. Hunter thrust a handful more times, still groaning out expletives, before he too painted Fitz’s torso white.

Before Fitz could entirely recover, Hunter’s tongue was on him, licking up the stripes of semen they both had made a mess with.

Jemma made a squeaking sound. Fitz had been blissfully unaware of their audience when he had been focused on his own orgasm, but now that the high was fading he was embarrassed by how badly he had neglected his girlfriends, even if they had insisted they were fine watching.

“May I?”

Maybe, Fitz considered again, this all was just an elaborate wet dream he was having. There was no other explanation as to why Hunter was already reaching to take Jemma’s knickers off. The explanations were this was a figment of his imagination or Hunter was one of the most generous lovers Fitz had met, and he would rather the latter not be true - otherwise he’d have to go breaking one of their rules, because there was no way Fitz could not fall in love with a man who was strong and a good lay and also remarkable at making sure everyone was taken care of.

Fitz made eye contact with Bobbi as Hunter laid himself out in front of Jemma, and he could tell from one look she was having the same thoughts. 

“What about you?” Fitz murmured, maneuvering himself through the tangle of limbs so he could sit at Bobbi’s hip.

“I could use some help, yeah,” Bobbi breathed. “If you’re offering.”

He certainly was. Fitz ran his hand up the inside of Bobbi’s thigh, nudging her panties out of the way. It was harder than usual, the wet fabric stubbornly clinging to her skin, but Fitz managed anyways. When Jemma made her first pleased moue as Hunter’s tongue passed over her, Fitz inserted his finger into Bobbi. She was soaking wet, her pussy clenching tight around his finger as she moaned.

Fitz didn’t need to be asked to give her more, slipping a second finger in alongside the first. Jemma made an obscene noise as Hunter did something between her legs, and Fitz took that as his cue to add a third finger.

Bobbi arched towards him, shimmying her hips in a delightful little dance as she silently begged for even _more_. He pulled her in for a bruising kiss, and when his mouth opened Bobbi nipped at his lip, sliding her tongue across his. Fitz’s thumb found her clit while his free hand wrapped around her breast.

She let out an almighty groan as she came around his fingers, and Fitz’s cock jerked back to life almost embarrassingly quickly at the feeling of her pussy tightening around his hand. Looking over to see Jemma writhing under Hunter’s mouth didn’t help his predicament, but Fitz didn’t care. Jemma was cumming on Hunter’s tongue and she was _beautiful_ and deserved every ounce of pleasure Hunter wrung out of her.

Hunter sat up, wiping at his chin. “Is it too much to ask that I go three for three?”

Bobbi pounced on him as an answer, and Fitz turned to Jemma. She still looked a little unfocused, so Fitz settled for pulling her into his side as Hunter and Bobbi began to kiss each other furiously. There was something primal, almost animalistic, about how Bobbi and Hunter moved together - Hunter’s gentleness when he touched Fitz seemed to have disappeared, but Bobbi was obviously enjoying it.

“She does like rough sex,” Jemma murmured, blinking as she recovered more of her thoughts. “I was always too worried I’d actually hurt her.”

“Me, too,” Fitz agreed. “This isn’t going to be the last time we see him, is it?” 

“No.” Jemma’s hand strayed to Fitz’s lap, cupping his balls. “I want to see him fuck you, at the very least.”

“Jemma!” Fitz hissed. Then, when she began tracing the veins on his dick with a featherlight touch, a moan - “ _Jemma_.”

“I don’t understand why you’re pretending to be scandalized, Fitz.” Jemma said, swirling her finger around the crown of his cock. Hunter had managed to pin Bobbi, but rather than entering her, he was thrusting against her stomach.

Right. Condoms. Shit. Fitz was so looking forward to a show.

“You know I like watching Bobbi peg you.” Jemma leaned over, catching his earlobe between her teeth and pulling. “And if I had any interest in topping, I would be delighted to peg you, too.” She closed her fist around his cock, pumping it a few times. Fitz’s hips jumped up to meet Jemma’s hand, and she stopped, clicking her tongue. “Be a little more patient, would you?”

Fitz huffed. It was hard to be patient when he was watching Hunter and Bobbi together - his cock desperately wanted to be a part of the action. Hunter’s fingers were now buried deep in Bobbi’s pussy as he continued to thrust against her stomach. Bobbi’s eyes were closed and her back was arched off the bed. Fitz wondered what she was imagining - that Hunter’s fingers were his cock instead? That certainly seemed the most likely.

“Don’t pout,” Jemma chided, resuming her pumping. “Or I’ll have Bobbi take over. You know how much she hates being interrupted.”

If Bobbi was interrupted, she definitely wouldn’t let him cum, and Fitz whined deep in his throat. To his surprise, Bobbi whined in return, her hips bucking into Hunter’s hand.

“Do you think you can cum before she does?” Jemma asked.

“N-no,” Fitz stuttered. He knew Bobbi, and she was composed right until the moment she flew off the edge. There was no way for him to tell from here how close she was, and he wasn’t going to take the chance.

“Are you sure about that?” Jemma asked, speeding up her strokes. “Are you really sure?”

“ _Fuck_ , Jemma.” His cock was more sensitive than usual since he had already finished once, not all that long ago, and Jemma’s damn hands… 

Bobbi screamed as she came, her fingers digging into Hunter’s shoulders. He let out a deep grunting sound before flopping over to the side, leaving behind streaks of cum on Bobbi’s stomach and chest.

“Looks like you were right,” Jemma said conversationally, slowing down again. “And if you didn’t beat Bobbi, is it really worth letting you cum at all?”

“ _Please._ ” 

“Or what?” Jemma said, teasing his slit open as precum burbled out.

“Or I’ll jerk myself off,” he snapped.

Jemma released his dick, wicked smile on her face. “Go right ahead.”

Fitz groaned. “Jemma!”

“I thought you’d jerk yourself off?”

“Doesn’t feel as good,” he pouted.

“You should’ve thought of that before you were a brat, then,” Bobbi commented from across the bed.

Fitz looked to Hunter. “I’m not looking to get on their bad sides,” Hunter slurred, snuggling into Bobbi’s side.

Which meant it was him and his hand. He curled his fingers around his throbbing length, eyes fluttering shut. He preferred Jemma’s hand - it was smaller but softer, and she knew how to touch his cock better than probably anyone else in the world. Masturbating was all well and good, but every time Jemma gave him a handjob he saw stars when he came. 

She had already done most of the work, though, and Fitz was hoping that would help him now. His cock jerked in his hand as if to remind him of its need, and Fitz sighed before pumping his fist once. He fell forward, planting his free hand on the bed and curling his fingers into the sheets. One stroke wasn’t nearly enough, and soon he was furiously jerking at his cock, begging for enough stimulation to bring him release. It wasn’t the same, though. Just when he thought he was reaching his peak the pleasure would crash back down like waves breaking against the shore. He was so close, his cock angry red and pulsing with need, but his damn hand couldn’t move fast enough or with enough skill to get him where he needed to be.

“Poor baby can’t cum,” Jemma crooned. Fitz rammed his hips forward into his hand, gasping out another curse. He could cum on his own, he _could_! He just needed - just needed -

“Ah, ah!” Fitz shouted. His cock twitched and his balls tightened, but… “Fuck!” he groaned as the impending orgasm once again eluded him. Against his every instinct, he released his cock, settling onto all fours as he panted. 

“It would be a shame to end such a good night without another orgasm, huh, Fitz?” Jemma asked. 

“Yes,” Fitz whimpered.

“You can do it, Leo,” Jemma said softly. “Just try again for me.”

When Fitz replaced his hand, his cock was eager and waiting. He forced himself to stroke slowly. Once, twice…

“Oooh,” Fitz moaned brokenly. A third slow stroke, and he was gone.

When he came back to himself, Bobbi was reaching her arms out for him. “Now that you’re done, we can sleep,” she mumbled.

“Am I, uh, staying?” Hunter asked awkwardly.

“Bobbi’s already decided you’re her pillow, so yes,” Jemma said. She snuggled up to Hunter’s other side while Fitz cuddled up to Bobbi, whose head was indeed on Hunter’s shoulder.

“We like you,” Jemma declared. 

Fitz flicked his gaze to Jemma, then to Bobbi. It seemed they were all in agreement: they had broken rule one.

(But really, was that so bad?)


End file.
